Reinhardt's Mark by James Patrick Hunt

Author:James Patrick Hunt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: berlin spy uranium thriller
Publisher: James Patrick Hunt

It was morning when the train arrived in Berlin. Reinhardt stepped off and moved through the station, the noise and traffic and cold light a welcome contrast to Cologne. He was out of the station and on the street when a horn honked at him twice and he turned to see Jay sitting in an old gray Volvo 240.

Reinhardt walked over. Jay Cooper rolled down the window.

“Hey,” Reinhardt said, “what are you doing here?”

“The General’s here. He wants a meeting.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Mercer’s here too.”

“Great.”

Reinhardt got in the car. Twenty minutes later they were in a tony apartment. Mercer was the one who answered the door.

John Mercer was a slight man, well groomed and crisp in manner. He had undergraduate and law degrees from Harvard. Stiff and arrogant, but not uncomfortable in his own skin. He was accomplished and intelligent, but he did not speak of his accomplishments and he did not show off his intelligence. Reinhardt could not say that he liked John Mercer, but he could not overlook the fact that Mercer could have easily had a much more lucrative career on Wall Street or in law than in government service. It was immaterial anyway; Mercer didn’t really want people to like him.

Now Mercer stood at the door and merely said, “Reinhardt” as if it were an appraisal. That was his standard greeting.

Reinhardt and Jay followed John Mercer though a small living room and into the kitchen and it was there Reinhardt saw General Deacon with his jacket off, in shirt sleeves and an apron. Dressed like an English butler and looking about as self-assured.

The Germans fancy their kitchens. The French and Italians make better food and their respect for the evening meal borders on something of a sacramental ritual. Yet neither the French nor the Italians put as much care and detail into the building and outfitting of a kitchen as the Germans. Much thought is put into the design and materials. A combination of sandstone, marble, glass, steel and wood, an ongoing quest for the perfect blend of form and function.

The General seemed perfectly at home in this one. There were a couple of pans on the stove. Reinhardt had heard the man had taken up cooking in the last few years, having grown tired of painting. The General acknowledged him.

“You had breakfast yet, Charlie?”

“No, sir. I just got back from Cologne.”

“Good. There’s some coffee there if you’d like some.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And there they were, Mercer, Jay and Reinhardt sitting at a blond wood table, sipping coffee while Deacon made them one of his special omelets with sautéed potatoes and bread. It was all very Bonanza like; Hoss, Adam and Little Joe at the morning table with Ben Cartwright at the stove. Yet if any of them felt self-conscious about it, it didn’t show. Jay Cooper was the sort that could cross his legs and fold his hands through a firefight. John Mercer would not condescend to feel uneasy, reading his Herald-Tribune. Reinhardt sipping his coffee, waiting for the General to ask him what he needed.

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